


Poetry for my Broken Heart

by TheLadyMerlin



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: tamingthemuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:23:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyMerlin/pseuds/TheLadyMerlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike reminisces over a Christmas past</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry for my Broken Heart

**Title:** Poetry for my Broken Heart  
 **Author:** The Lady Merlin  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Pairing:** Angel(us)/Spike (William)  
 **Prompt:** Community: Taming the Muse #389 Coxswain  & for Community: Rekindle Spangel  
 **Status:** Complete  
 **Fandom:** BtVS  & AtS  
 **Genre:** AU  
 **Beta (s):** none, proofread  
 **Disclaimer:** not mine, all belongs to Joss  
 **Graphic:** none  
 **Summary:** Spike reminisces over a Christmas past  
 **A/N:** I started this with the intention of going in a certain direction and it suddenly went in another. My apologies as it made for a far more sweet, schmoopy and out of character story than I had intended. 

 

Spike lifted the yellow stone by it's gold chain from where it had fallen in his lap, and lifted an eyebrow in the watcher's direction. “What's this then?”

Giles sighed heavily, slipped off his glasses and rubbed a hand tiredly across his forehead. He looked up and pinned Spike with a look of disappointment. “Spike, have you not been paying any attention to the discussion? Somehow, and I shudder when I say this, but I had expected better from you.”

Having been caught out daydreaming, Spike fidgeted and then became annoyed that it even bothered him. “Not like you lot usually have anything interesting to talk about.”

“This is important. Angel needs help,” Buffy explained with her arms folded.

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. “Of course, it's important if it's about the great and mighty Angel,” he retorted. A thought occurred and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “If it's so bloody important why don't you go? Angel's your supposed soul mate, not mine, thank fuck.”

Xander unsuccessfully tried to stifle his snort of laughter making Spike grin in his direction.

“Xander,” Willow scolded.

“Giles!” Buffy screeched.

Giles sighed again. “Children, please,” Giles said to the room in general. “Spike, I would be grateful if you would do this.”

“Giles, you don't have to be nice to him. It's only Spike,” Buffy pointed out, causing the vampire to sneer in her direction.

“Seeing as it Christmas this weekend, I had assumed you would rather stay here, in Sunnydale, with your family. If I'm mistaken then by all means go yourself,” he said to Buffy in exasperation.

“Yeah,” Spike chimed in with glee, “By all means, do your own effin' job for once.”

Buffy whipped out a stake and took a step towards the stairs, where the vampire had been sprawled comfortably. “Fine,” she said. “Why don't I start with you.”

Spike slid off the stairs and edged closer to the watcher. “Now, now, slayer. No need for that. I'll take the pretty trinket to the Poof.”

“Yes you will,” she declared triumphantly.

Spike wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. Damn chip. The watcher, as if knowing of Spike's inner irritation, placed a careful hand on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, quietly. “It is appreciated.”

Spike settled his coat more comfortably on his shoulders, pocketed the amulet and headed for the door with as much dignity as he could muster. “I'll expect a decent payment when I get back. I'll be wanting some nice ox blood as well as the pig.”

“Of course, Spike,” the watcher acquiesced. Rather easily Spike thought, but he wasn't about to argue.

“And at least five hundred for this,” he demanded.

“At the very least,” Giles agreed with a nod and a small smile. Spike was surprised, and absurdly grateful, for the watcher's understanding. Giles had obviously suffered some indignity in his own past. Spike recalled the incident with Giles as a Faryl demon and returned the small nod with one of his own. Then added a cheeky grin.

“No! That's too much,” Buffy protested, moving towards the vampire once more.

Giles turned an angry glare her way and she backed off. “Buffy, might I remind you that we do actually need his help.” 

“Right.” Spike announced to no one in particular. “I'll be off then. He didn't bother to see if anyone acknowledged his departure. He doubted anyone, apart from Giles, would care much one way or the other. Although, as Giles pointed out, he was doing them all a favour. Of course, it also meant he had to see Angel of all people. God, his life well and truly sucked. He shook his head, and in a swirl of leather and a plume of cigarette smoke, he headed off to fetch the DeSoto.

~*~

Spike flicked through the radio stations finding nothing but Christmas carols, sneered with annoyance, and with a final twist, finally just left it where it was. “Bloody stupid humans and their bloody stupid holiday,” he complained aloud to the empty car. He wasn't sure what was bothering him more: being sent to run errands, having to see Angel, getting caught wool-gathering or what he'd actually been thinking about. It almost felt like one giant conspiracy because everything seemed to lead back to the same damn thing - Christmas and Angel. 

Well, Angelus more specifically. And if he was going to be honest, and he should, at least with himself, it had been that very first Christmas which kept distracting him. He blamed it on having way too much time on his hands, and maybe a bit too much drinking, which was apparently causing one hell of a moroseness lately. But the reason didn't actually matter all that much because the end result was the same regardless. At the end of the day, all he was able to think of lately was those few days. Those few days when he'd actually wished Angelus would keep him forever and Drusilla would never come home. God, he'd been such an idiot.

It had been his very first Christmas after Drusilla had found him, a pathetic wreck, and offered him everything he'd thought he'd always wanted. It hadn't mattered that they had only just met and he didn't even know her name. His heart had been smashed to bits and ground to dust beneath the heel of the woman he had worshipped for months. All he wanted was for it all to be finished. He'd had enough. He briefly wondered if he had known what was going to happen would he still have said yes? He knew the answer. It was the same answer he would always give. It hadn't been all bad. Especially that one Christmas...

William had thought it odd when the tree showed up in the huge house they were currently occupying in London. The house hadn't been that far from where he had lived when he was alive and he'd enjoying prowling about the streets at night. He was careful not to be seen and he never hunted. Angelus would've beaten him bloody if he had. William may have been a young fledge, but he wasn't entirely stupid. 

So when he'd come home that night, after being sure to do his hunting in another part of the city, he was surprised to see a large, fully decorated tree, complete with a gold star on the top. He hadn't even realised it was almost Christmas, and was secretly surprised, when he checked the calendar, that he hadn't actually missed the day.

He'd been oddly excited and went out the very next night to buy presents for his new family. Oh, he didn't have any money of his own, so he'd eaten a pickpocket. The poor unfortunate had just lifted a purse from outside the theatre. William had taken the opportunity to practice his skills and followed him back to the seedier part of the city. Taking the money from the still warm corpse with nary a thought, he happily went to spend it. 

The city streets had been teeming with late night shoppers bustling through the recently fallen snow. It was cold as well as crowded. It should have been miserable but it wasn't. The shops were well it, throwing not only their light but a welcoming warmth out onto the street. Fences, windows and walls were decorated with wreaths and garlands of pine. Their red bows and scent lending cheer to the songs of the carollers singing on the corner near the pub. A vendor was selling hot chestnuts and he stopped to buy a bag and a spicy hot chocolate, too. The heat from both were bliss and he revelled in the small act of defiance to Angelus' rules.

Coming home late, with his arms filled with brightly wrapped packages, he thought for sure Angelus would be angry. Small defiances were one thing, but blatantly defying the head of the house was bound to result in some unpleasant punishment. 

So, William crept quietly to the tree near the large fireplace and knelt to place his parcels under the fragrant branches. When he heard the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps behind him, his heart sank and he held his unneeded breath in dreaded anticipation.

“William? What are you doing with your head under the tree, boy?”

William placed the final parcel under the tree and rose to face the inevitable. “Sire,” William mumbled, using the name of respect the elder vampire insisted upon. He decided not to bring up the fact that he was late. Better to find out how much trouble he was in first.

“I believe I asked you a question.”

William shuffled his feet, stalling for time and hoping inspiration would suddenly strike. “I went shopping,” he admitted, gesturing to the gifts.

“I see,” Angelus replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And why would you do that?”

“Well, I just thought... it is Christmas after all.” Angelus glared. “Sire.” 

Angelus nodded and rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “And what made you think we, as vampires, would celebrate a holiday like Christmas?”

Now that William thought about it, it did seem silly, and he blushed hotly. “But the tree?” he questioned, confused.

Angelus laughed and William blanched. But it wasn't an angry sound. It was a happy and full of wonder and delight. The younger vampire relaxed a bit. “Not to worry lad,” Angelus reassured him. “It was for Drusilla. She seems to like these sorts of things. And it doesn't do any harm to indulge her now and again.”

William nodded, kicking himself for being so stupid. “I see,” William said, trying not to sound disappointed. “Shall I get rid of them then?” Angelus appeared lost in thought so William prompted, “Sire?”

Angelus stirred and smiled. “What? Oh, no. No harm done and I'm sure our Dru will be delighted.”

William smiled. “Shall I fetch her? She can open her present.” He headed for the doorway, his excitement returning.

“Wait,” Angelus said, stopping William at the door. “She's gone on a trip with Darla.” William frowned, annoyed at not having been told about this earlier. “Which reminds me... you're late.” 

William's anger abruptly faded. “I...ah, you see...”

“And where did you get the money for all this? You didn't steal it, did you?”

“Yes. NO! I mean...it wasn't me. There was a pickpocket near the theatre and I followed him.” Angelus seemed pleased and William felt heartened. “I didn't mean to be late. I'm sorry, Sire.” William kept his eyes respectfully down, taking peeks up at his pacing Sire through his lashes.

Angelus stopped and placed a lone finger under the point of William's chin. Gentle, persistent pressure caused William to lift his head, and his eyes. He was astonished to see a smile on his Sire's face and not a scowl. “You are a pretty little thing,” he observed, fingers lightly caressing the skin of William's face. “And it is Christmas after all. Do you have a present for me?” Shocked, William could only nod. “Why don't you go get it and bring it here?” Angelus suggested, moving to the couch.

William walked slowly to the tree, dropping down to his knees and fumbling beneath for the small box. He returned to the couch with it clutched tightly between his fingers. His mind swirled with confusion. He was more used to shouting and hitting than caresses and kind words. He held out his hand, the parcel seeming to weigh a ton. He let his arm drop and sat hesitantly when Angelus patted the cushion next to one beefy thigh after taking his gift.

“Let's see what we have here, shall we?” Angelus said, tearing at the wrapping. He opened the hinged, velvet box inside revealing a gold signet ring with a diamond cut pattern in one corner. “Lovely,” Angelus said, slipping it on his finger and leaning close. William trembled and tried to stop the small breathless pants leaving his suddenly dry mouth. “Almost as lovely as you,” Angelus whispered, pressing his lips gently to William’s. 

A large hand slipped into the hair at the nape of his neck and he was pulled closer to the large solid bulk of his Sire. William let his eyes drift close and a sigh escape his lips... 

 

Spike had never forgotten that night. It had been the first time he'd ever lain with another man and the last time his Sire had ever been so gentle with him. Angelus had unwrapped William as happily as he'd unwrapped his gift. Spike had almost believed that Angelus had loved him. They had shared their bodies and tales of their human past. Angelus had entertained William with tales of drinking and whoring. And the elder vampire had genuinely appeared interested in William's stories of school and his time spent as the coxswain on the rowing team. William had finally drifted off to sleep on a haze of sexual pleasure and awoken to find himself alone on the large bed, save for the present on the other pillow. He'd opened it to find a book of poetry. 

A book Spike had kept with him for years. He'd been heartbroken to discover it was missing after they'd left China. It was the only reminder he'd had of that night and the kindness of which his Sire was capable. He occasionally liked to take it out of hiding and look at it, fooling himself into thinking Angelus had actually cared once upon a time.

Spike smashed his hand against the wheel, the sting of it taking him away from the pain of a distant past.

His arrival in LA was uneventful and the demons easily dispatched with the help of the amulet. It was all a bit of a let down really. But Spike supposed he really shouldn't have expected anything different. Although, a decent fight would've helped take the edge off of seeing Angel again. 

The rest of the LA crew had scampered off right after the fight that wasn't, leaving Spike and Angel standing around awkwardly in front of the large Christmas tree in the lobby. 

“S'pose I should be getting along myself,” Spike said, quietly. He was stopped by a hand on his arm. He looked down to see the signet ring he'd given Angelus all those years ago. 

“Stay?” Angel asked. “Sit with me and have a drink?”

Gob-smacked by the sight of that ring, Spike nodded and let himself be led upstairs. Angel opened the door to his room and gestured to the couch. “Have a seat.”

Spike sat and watched while Angel opened a bottle of expensive whiskey and poured two generous glasses. He took a seat next to Spike, who still hadn't worked out anything to say, and handed him one of the glasses. The lamplight glinted off the gold of the ring on his finger. Spike took the glass and knocked bag half the contents, letting the warmth flow through him. 

Spike reached out a hand and let his fingers trace over the diamond cut pattern. “I can't believe you still have this,” he whispered. 

“That reminds me. I have something for you,” Angel said, standing and retrieving a present from the wardrobe. He sat back down and held out the brightly coloured box. 

Spike stared. He wanted to take it, but then he dreaded to think of what the acceptance might cost him. It had taken William far too long to get over that one night he'd spent with his Sire. Curiosity finally won out, and Spike accepted the parcel, setting his glass on the small table. His fingers tore easily through the garish, green paper he couldn't imagine Angel purchasing. The wrapping fell away to reveal the book of poetry he'd thought lost all those years ago. 

A hand slipped through his hair and tilted his face upwards. Angel brushed his lips tentatively, gently over his own, questioning, yearning. “Do you remember?” Angel asked.

“Do you?” Spike countered, not quite daring to hope. 

When Angel kissed him this time it was far more demanding and with far more confidence. “I've never forgotten, lad.” 

Spike was beginning to think there were a lot of things he'd thought he'd lost that maybe he actually hadn't lost after all.

~ Mòran taing ~


End file.
